The Best Laid Plans
by Luxen T
Summary: Dick Grayson doesn't have an easy life and doesn't expect otherwise, but he can always hope for easier. When a plan to make his civilian days a little more pleasant takes a less than asterous turn, he'll learn the difference between trust and friendship, his guardian will learn the dangers of making assumptions, and one of his teammates will learn a secret known to few.


**The Best Laid Plans**

Dick sat in the back seat fingering a bruised wrist with a smile as Alfred drove him to school early on a Monday. The smile on his face was not the cock-sure grin of the Robin, but it was reminiscent. The bruise on his wrist which was slowly darkening into the shape of fingers was not one of Robin's bruises either, but it may as well have been because it felt about the same. Today he felt a little like Robin in disguise instead of the other way around, and it was that feeling which put the smile on his face. Robin always had a plan, but today Dick Grayson had one.

He was still smiling to himself as Alfred pulled to a stop and wished him a good day. He pulled the sleeve down on his bruised wrist in the same movement that swung his backpack onto his shoulders and lightly stepped onto the Gotham Academy campus. His smile grew as he walked past the small columns where he'd surprised Artemis with an impromptu selfie not quite a month ago. It really was a shame she couldn't be told who he was. Her relationship with the team at first had been…awkward, at best. But, once she'd gotten past her unbearable attempts at flirting with Superboy and Dick had had some time to get to know her better as more than just Speedy's replacement, he found he liked what she brought to the team. For one, she and Wally were hilarious. She was also talented in a refreshing not-meta kind of way, and their recent struggle with Red Tornado's "relatives" had shown her in need of some growth but more than capable of it. In a strange, reverse-psychology kind of way, Robin's knowledge of her family secret only made it easier for him to trust her. She'd be useful, and Dick recognized her growing value to the team. Which was why today his plans hinged on her.

Today he hoped to…befriend Artemis. Or at least become acquainted. He would have tried right away, but the trouble from the beginning had been their ages. Despite it being a small school, Dick never saw Artemis much or had an excuse to be around her, because they were in different grades. Lunch was the best chance he got, but even then he couldn't approach her. He was high-profile as a student, and, if he tried to sit with the older, exotic blonde without a reason, at best the other students would take it the wrong way. At worst, Artemis would. Today was a mandatory fitness evaluation for the whole school, though, providing a freshman an opportunity to talk to a sophomore without it being too contrived or easy to notice. Of course, he'd have to be extra careful now to avoid showing off too much in his evals, but he was used to that. Dick Grayson was a show off in other ways.

The evals for the high-schoolers weren't until after lunch, though, so he made his way happily and carefully to homeroom – carefully, because he hoped to have a perfect record today of no new bruises to ignore. Even though his efforts didn't always save him, he had them down to a science by now, his skills as Robin only helping. He'd spent years perfecting the art of avoiding other children looking to take advantage of his small stature and intentionally unassuming, nerdy nature to tease him for any number of things from being a circus brat to a rich kid among rich kids. He didn't want to have to deal with it today. He quickly attached himself to a group of students and walked with them, forcing himself as always to chat about the mundane in exchange for being allowed to walk with them without awkwardness. He spent the first half of the day as usual being careful to only use the restroom when he had to excuse himself from a class to do so, to pass notes near the end of classes starting a conversation which the receivers would feel a need to continue as they filed to the next class, to find ways to be seen as engaged with the material without raising his hand to volunteer for anything. He was good at avoiding the teasing, but then something had changed which he hadn't had the life experience to predict. A couple of years ago the teasing children had started to grow up, and a few months ago they had all become high-schoolers. High-schoolers, it seemed, didn't content themselves with just teasing and light bullying. The meanest of them had had a field day after that mission in Bialya had resulted in him being inexplicably absent from school for a full six months. This had presented a new problem. For Robin, there would have been a dozen different ways to handle it. For Dick, it had taken a few weeks to find just one.

He used his usual fail-safe plan to get through lunch – that is to say, he ate with Barbara – then made his way, again carefully but happily, to the gym. Having hastily changed into his gym clothes, it was finally time to put his plan into action. A man on a mission, he placed himself among the milling students so that he would naturally cross paths with his target, and then he just let the confrontation occur.

"Hey, Artemis!" he said.

Artemis looked over, and down, in surprise, frowning slightly.

"Um, it…is Artemis, right? We've only vaguely met, but I thought I had the name right."

"Yeah, it's Artemis," she said, recovering from her surprise but still frowning, "but I don't know you."

Dick just smiled; of course, Artemis would be the one person in school who genuinely didn't know his name, but it forced him to back up in his planned conversation. His identity was really his only excuse for knowing her name or talking to her at all. "Sorry, I'm Dick. Dick Grayson, and don't worry about it. Like I said, we've only vaguely met back when you first started here. My guardian, Bruce, funds your scholarship, so…I just remembered you. It's ok if you don't remember my name; I'm pretty sure I never actually gave it, to be honest."

And that was when everything fell to shambles.

Dick waited patiently as the wheels turned in her head, then watched with concern as her eyes narrowed slightly and her mouth firmed into a less surprised frown and a more displeased one. He knew this look; she used it a lot.

"Bruce…Wayne, I'm guessing," she said.

"I…yeah, that's the one. So, how are you liking it here? Fitness evals aside," he smiled again, "it's nice enough."

"Yeah. Fitness evals aside," she huffed. "I'm surprised there's this much of a turn-out really."

Dick frowned. "Well, they're…mandatory. We have to be here whether we like it or not."

"What, you can't buy your way out of them? Look, kid, Dick, the school's nice; the day's not. Rain check on this conversation?"

He blinked. "Sure…rain check. Got it," he said, quickly becoming angry as he processed the insult but trying to be civil about it. "It's Gotham, you know? We all know the rain check excuse."

"What, is that how all the girls turn you down? Sorry, that's not all of Gotham; that's just you. Try again when you're tired of using dad's money to buy your friends."

Dick shot straight from angry to numb. Some small part of his brain offered a tentative mental, _Well, that escalated quickly_ , as he fought past his urge to respond to so many shots at once: buying friends, Bruce as his dad… Finally, he responded to just one. "I meant because it rains a lot here," he spat and turned on the ball of one foot to rejoin his grade.

Artemis tried to calm her fury as she stepped up to take her turn at whatever exercise her instructors were about to put her through. She wasn't paying attention. Because of that, she wasn't nearly as careful about toning down her athleticism as she'd meant to be. Because of that, she was even more furious by the end of the school day. Dick, on the other hand, had calmed down and observed both her display and how she clearly didn't notice, and as a result ignored, the girls of her grade when they complimented her performance in complete surprise. His mouth quirked in a small smile despite himself: she was just as oblivious to kindness in civilian life as she was on the team. He'd try again tomorrow. Not today, though; he sighed to himself as he changed and made his way to the pick-up area where he knew Alfred would be waiting at the front of the line. Today he had to get home and finish homework if he wanted to be on patrol tonight as well as ready for both training exercises with the team and patrol tomorrow evening. He pulled himself into the back seat of the car again, greeting Alfred with a little less energy than he'd had this morning. But, he found himself smiling softly to himself: nothing had happened today what with him being extra careful, the fitness evaluations keeping the students more supervised than usual, and Alfred, God bless him, being right on time to pick him up as always. So his trip home found him smiling again as he fingered a bruise on his wrist and planned his second try.

By the time Bruce Wayne came home, Dick had finished his homework and was in the gym exercising and thinking through the finer points of both his failed plan and his new one. Pulling himself upright and arms downward on the rings, he looked over at his left wrist and the bruise that was still darkening there. By the feel of it, it would turn a dark, sullen color by tomorrow morning and be a light yellow in a few more days. It really wasn't a bad bruise; it was just that the kid who grabbed him was an athlete and happened to have large hands. No big deal, it just left a nastier mark than the immature assault had merited. Bruce hadn't even noticed it when they'd sparred yesterday after he'd gotten it. Bruises came with the night-life. Today, though, he probably would notice. Robin had been present to stop a few petty crimes in the last few days, but none where he was grabbed by the wrist. Dick grimaced and flipped back to the floor. This needed to be taken care of. He'd been dodging this getting noticed for months, but it just kept escalating. He couldn't bring Bruce into it; frankly, he'd been living in Batman's shadow long enough to know when standing there was a good thing…and when it wasn't. There were times when being in the protection of the big guy only made things worse, and Dick figured this was one of those times. Just look at how Artemis had reacted to the mere mention of Bruce Wayne! Gritting his teeth, Dick paced. That was unfair of her, but she was still his only shot. He'd thought maybe Barbara could help, but the fact was she was in the same sticky situation. She was the Commissioner's daughter, and she couldn't be seen making a fuss at school any more than Dick could. Bruce Wayne's ward could not be seen fighting in school, and he definitely didn't want to give anyone any reason to connect him to Robin. Barbara had nearly as many reasons not to be getting into scraps at school, and even if it never came to that Dick didn't want to put her in that position. On the other hand, he knew Artemis could take care of herself, that she could take care of others, that she had made it her mission in a way to take care of others, and that she was in the best position to be able to defend him without anyone being able to lift a finger. All he really needed was someone willing to stand up for him occasionally, and if push came to shove and she had to hit somebody over it, well…who would be able to keep Bruce Wayne from stepping in then to protect someone in school on his funding and protecting his ward? It was perfect. Fail-proof. Dick paced his way back to his water bottle and sat down, turning it in his hands distractedly. He didn't need much and in fact couldn't risk much of a friendship with Artemis or she'd recognize him. All he needed was to get close enough to use her as a shield. He blinked, groaned as he wiped the sweat off his forehead. Maybe she was right. A little backward, but right. He wasn't trying to buy her friendship, but he certainly was trying to use her.

Bruce walked in in sweats, ready to warm up before patrol, but frowned looking over his partner. "Well, I'm going to guess it's not the uneven bars puzzling you. What's that look for?"

Dick looked up grinning. "I was just thinking that it's been a while since I felt what it's like to feel the need to worm your way into the good graces of someone richer and more powerful than you."

Bruce quirked a brow. "What?"

"Nevermind," he said, shaking his head. "Just girl trouble. But not the kind you're thinking."

"What kind was I thinking?" Bruce chuckled, lying back on a mat to begin core exercises. "You're too young for real girl trouble."

"Shut up! I am not. Fourteen is plenty old for girl trouble, especially since girls know how to make trouble from, like, the age of five." Dick glared at his water bottle, frowning. "What do you know about girl trouble anyway? You cause all of yours."

Bruce huffed a laugh. "Yeah? Well, girls would have us believe we all cause our own girl trouble, not just playboy billionaires."

Dick looked up at that. "I guess it was sort of my fault. But it was unavoidable! And anyway she completely took it the wrong way."

Bruce paused in his exercises to look over at him almost apprehensively. "Look, Dick…if this is about to become one of those conversations where I'm supposed to give you girl advice…"

"No, no, no! No. No, it's not," he said quickly. "Unless you know of some way to not say the wrong thing when trying to get on a girl's good side."

"Sure, sport," he said, laughing. "Keep your mouth shut. What did you say anyway?"

Dick gritted his teeth, feeling the color rise in his cheeks. "Nothing I plan on admitting to. And I'm not going to admit to what she called me on for saying it either. I didn't really want advice. It's fine."

Bruce looked at him oddly for a moment before resuming his warm-up. "We'll leave in an hour. That should take your mind off things at least."

Dick nodded, took a long drink, and then approached the uneven bars. They, at least, wouldn't give him any trouble.

Two hours later, in the middle of patrol, Dick realized Bruce had never noticed his bruises. He was relieved. 

Tuesday morning, Artemis arrived at school early as always, parked her bike, and ran for the lockers. She wasn't concerned with bullies, or friends either for that matter, but she had an image to keep up. She was here on scholarship, and from day one part of surviving that in a school hosting the likes of Bruce Wayne's ward meant no one ever saw the inside of her locker. It was bad enough her dingy bike had to be parked outside. Going through the motions of not looking like a charity case today, though, was particularly galling. She counted her blessings that today she shouldn't have any reason to have to deal with Richard Grayson. _Speak of the devil_ , she thought, as she heard his name around a corner on her way to homeroom, but when she turned the corner and snuck a glance he wasn't there. Instead, a group of three boys stood at their lockers discussing, it seemed, the most juvenile plot she'd yet to hear in her fourteen year lifetime. Which was saying something considering she'd seen both Wally and Robin come up with some incredibly stupid pranks. She rolled her eyes, walking faster even though she'd been early to be sure she made it to class in time after listening in on the biggest waste of time since yesterday's conversation with a shrimpy rich jerk. Apparently, Dick Grayson was going to have a surprise in his lunch today. She'd be amused if it weren't so completely stupid.

Come lunch period, Dick filed into the line with his tray and searched the room for Artemis. Today, he'd figured during last night's musings, it would be ok if he approached her out of nowhere, because he could excuse it by saying he needed to apologize for flipping her lid. By accident. But he tried not to frustrate himself thinking about that. He also tried not to be frustrated when one of his long-time "tormentors", if he could even call these delinquents that, tried to spill milk on his shoes from behind him in line. He couldn't fight them, but no rumors would start if he simply had quick reflexes. He saved his shoes, scowling at the other boy. He'd expected retaliation after having escaped un-harassed yesterday, but this kind of attempt was, frankly, just insulting. The other kid just grinned at him. Dick took a deep breath to stay whelmed, got the rest of his food – barbecue sandwiches today that he'd almost swear came straight from a carnival stand despite what their families paid for their lunches –, and looked again for Artemis. When he found her, she was looking straight back at him with an amused and slightly pitying look on her face. It completely caught Dick off-guard, and he glared back and chose his usual table with Barbara. He'd apologize some other time when she wasn't being a complete and incomprehensible witch. Barbara flinched as he set his tray down hard.

"Um, you good, Dick?" she asked.

He just scowled at her and picked up his fork. At least such an upstanding establishment didn't expect them to try to eat barbecue by hand and still keep their uniforms clean.

"Yeah, uh, I don't like BBQ day either, but let's not have to pay for destruction of private property when you bust up the trays, ok?" Barbara joked. Normally, Dick would have had something smart to say back, but today he said nothing, poking around at his sandwich…no, stabbing it. Barbara sighed. "Okaaaay, not in the mood. Maybe you could tell me what you did to piss off miss blondie over there. She's been staring at you for a while and, uh, not in a good way before you get excited," she said, smirking. Her smirk turned to a confused frown when her teasing resulted in Dick just massacring his sandwich worse. Giving up trying to talk, she picked at her own.

Dick's mood spiraled. It seemed like Artemis was still really disgusted by his existence in the world since her realization yesterday that he even existed in the world. So, he'd be on his own again at least for today, probably until Artemis could get herself into a good mood….which would be never. He sighed, and finally took a bite of his mangled sandwich. And froze with the bite still partially chewed in his mouth. It didn't taste right, but it did taste familiar. He breathed in and the taste that was on his tongue hit his nose; his eyes went wide, and he felt suddenly cold. Fear toxin? It smelled like fear gas!

"Dick? Are you ok?" Barbara asked. "Hey!" she yelled as he spat his mouthful violently back onto his plate.

He took off running out into the hallway headed for the nearest bathroom, already planning his next actions. He knew he wouldn't have much time before it would be imperative that he have a plan to cling to mentally rather than still be trying against all odds to think straight. First, he'd try rinsing his mouth out. With any luck, the toxin's effects could be mitigated if they were never swallowed, even though the veins under the tongue could absorb chemicals…wait, had he swallowed? He couldn't remember. Scratch that, he'd induce vomiting and go from there. He'd need privacy to contact Bruce and he'd need it fast, so the next thing he needed to do was check the bathroom was empty and then bar the door. In all likelihood, the sound of violent vomiting in one of the stalls would run everyone out anyway. Dick burst into the boys' bathroom, running a hand along doors to feel for an unlocked one. The very first one was empty. He bolted in, not bothering to lock the door, put a finger in his mouth, and heaved over the toilet. In his already agitated state, it didn't take much encouragement for him to spill what was in his stomach. Now he needed privacy. Wiping his mouth on his sleeve, he dropped to the floor and saw that no one was in the restroom. He'd just unbuttoned his jacket to reach his utility belt when there was a knock at the door.

"Dick! Dick Grayson, are you in there? You ok?" a female voice called.

It was Artemis. Dick paused. If she came in here while he had his utility belt out, he'd be busted. Bruce would have something to say about that. On the other hand, just because he was still thinking clearly now didn't mean he would be the next second. He had to get a message through.

"Dude, not cool! Boys' restroom! Go away!" he yelled, fingers waiting just short of his belt to tear it out as soon as she left.

"I just want to make sure you're ok. I know those boys put something in your lunch," she yelled back.

Dick blinked in confusion. Boys? He would have noticed if anyone had put something in his lunch, and why would any kid here have fear toxin?

"Dick, look, you should be fine. It was just some weird mess of spices they threw together to taste nasty, but if you're sick I can get the nurse," Artemis said.

Dick collapsed against the stall wall. Spices. He stopped and took a deep, long breath. Maybe. He wasn't feeling any of the usual effects, and it didn't make sense for kids to be walking around with fear toxin to use for bullying tricks. That is, if Artemis really saw them do it. Eyes narrowing, he stood up, re-buttoned his jacket, and opened the door to reveal Artemis actually looking concerned. She opened her mouth to speak, but Dick beat her to it.

"What do you mean some boys put spices in my food to taste bad? Explain," he demanded.

Artemis flinched. "I…" There was something about the way he spoke that was oddly intimidating. "I heard them. This morning. They were talking about putting a mix of spices they'd come up with into your lunch. It was just supposed to taste bad, but are you-"

"But did you see them do it? Did you see them put it in?" Dick interrupted.

"Yeah. I mean, that kid acted like he was spilling his milk, and they put it in while you were distracted," she explained.

Dick paled and stood in silence for a moment, Artemis looking back at him in confusion. He passed through an odd range of emotions from embarrassment at his over-reaction to fear at the idea of a stupid kid pulling something over on him while he was distracted by another stupid kid. Then, Artemis watched as he went deathly still, as his eyes met hers with a cold fury, as his legs unconsciously widened into a stance she instinctively knew spelled danger, as his hands straightened out forming, not into fists, but into spears shivering with anger.

"You heard them this morning. And you sat in the cafeteria watching me. And you laughed," Dick said flatly, threateningly.

Artemis took a step back, unconsciously moving into a defensive stance. "I didn't laugh."

"You were laughing! I saw your eyes! I was going to apologize, but I saw you laughing at me!" He was yelling. He didn't know it, but he was.

"Look, it seemed harmless to me. I didn't think it would actually make you sick, I mean, I was actually surprised when you ran out like-"

Down the hall, Dick saw Barbara finally figuring out where he'd gone and coming to find him. He grabbed Artemis by the collar and pulled her into the bathroom before Barbara could see them.

"Sure, harmless," he said, letting go of her. Forcefully. She stumbled back a little, stunned. "You mean you thought you'd get a real cute show, some boys giving the rich snob what he deserved after how he talked to you yesterday. You just let them do it and never said a word to anyone, because it was _harmless_ and you were _enjoying it_! Thanks for just assuming that I deserved to be messed with; I'm sure that was really your call to make. Just spices, huh? I'm not sure how the stupid girl who leapt to the conclusion that I was trying to BUY her friendship didn't also jump to the conclusion that somebody might try to poison a rich kid's food, but I suppose there can even be limits to your stupidity." The knowledge that he'd been stupid enough to mistake it for poisoning only made him angrier. "Maybe I'll just humor you and have a talk with my 'dad' about how ignorant his charity case actually is and how wasted his money is on her, because that's what rich snobs who deserve to be messed with do, right? Maybe I'll just prove you right and see how that sits with _your_ stomach, because it's all in good harmless fun! Artemis _Crock_! And just since you enjoy it so much, I'll give you one last show. Be by the library door in two minutes, and I can personally guarantee you a great finale." He stormed out of the bathroom and back down the hall, flushed with his anger. He'd just resigned himself to the fact that Artemis wasn't going to be able to help him. Now, hearing this, he realized something worse: Artemis was part of the problem. He would have been ok with just enduring the annoying flies doing this to him, but his plan to relieve himself of them, and the hope that came with it, had left him vulnerable to disappointment. This hurt. And he was about to make it worse.

Artemis was left in the boy's restroom unsure of how to leave. She didn't wait long, though. When she heard yelling from outside, she ran out of the bathroom and looked for the source. Dick had told her to be by the library door... She took off at a sprint, turning down the hall to the library, and stopped in surprise. It was chaos. The three boys from that morning were pummeling what was obviously Grayson. One of the three was covered in what looked to be lunch, and Grayson was trying to fend them all off by clumsily slinging around his backpack which happened to be open and was spewing its contents everywhere. It was doing him absolutely no good. Artemis was just about to intervene when teachers arrived, breaking the boys up easily and, to her surprise, hauling Dick up by his jacket and holding him back in the same way as the rest. Dick never looked her way as all four boys were led to the principal's office, but she knew he'd known she was there, watching.

Within an hour, Bruce Wayne had arrived at Gotham Academy, had everything explained to him by the teachers, and was walking his ward out to the car to be driven home early. As he walked, he took in the state of the boy. His hair was a complete mess, gelled sprigs of it sticking out in all directions like a hedgehog as the hair product tried to keep the strands in shape even though the shape had been so thoroughly mussed. His clothes were rumpled and filthy with both dirt and lunch. His shirt had a yellow stain on it Bruce hadn't been able to place upon first seeing him. When asked, Dick had blankly admitted that he might have thrown up on himself. Bruce opened the front passenger side door for Dick to get in then walked quickly to the driver's side. Alfred had already been informed that there'd be no need for him to pick Dick up today. Bruce spent nearly the whole drive in silence before speaking.

"So. Do you want to explain to me why you tried to start a food fight in the cafeteria." It had started out as a question, but somewhere along the way his incredulity and anger had turned it into a flat statement.

Dick was silent a moment. "I wasn't trying to start a food fight," he quietly answered, looking out the window even though he knew Bruce's eyes would be on the road, not him.

"You threw your sandwich at another boy. That's called starting a food fight," Bruce said flatly.

Dick tightened his grip on his backpack and said nothing.

Bruce sighed. "Alright. Do you want to tell me what you were trying to start and why."

"I wasn't trying to start anything!" Dick burst out. "And there wasn't a why! I just got tired of being messed with, and it's not like I could slug the guy."

Bruce frowned. "So…you couldn't punch him, so you threw a sandwich at him."

Dick said nothing as the car pulled into the driveway.

"You want to tell me why you thought that would be a decent alternative to punching someone?" Bruce asked.

"I didn't," Dick said.

"Good. Because it wasn't." Bruce parked the car and turned to look at the boy ignoring him for all he was worth. "Black Canary has already scheduled training exercises today, and I'm not cancelling patrol or reorganizing my plans for patrol because you decided to get involved in teenage school drama. So for now, you're going to the mountain and we're going on patrol this evening, but I want a full explanation for this afterward. Use this time to think." 

When Robin arrived by zeta at the mountain, he was late. He hadn't exactly been itching to get into the suit and over to training, and Batman hadn't been around to motivate him since he'd left earlier for the Watchtower. He walked in to a chorus of greetings and a frown from Black Canary and went to stand by Wally who didn't seem to catch on to Robin's mood but thankfully had no time to speak as Black Canary jumped right to it.

"Now that everyone's here, our training exercise for today is meant to help you learn to work with just one of your teammates rather than the full team. You've already been in situations where you don't have the strength of the full team to rely on. Some of you have shown decent reactions to this kind of unfavorable situation, but it needs work. I'll be splitting you into groups of two for this exercise, and you'll be fighting each other in pairs. Only your partner is your ally. All other pairs are your enemies. The last person standing wins for both himself and his partner. I won't be choosing based on which pairs I think will even each other out for fairness. I'll be choosing based on which pairs I feel can and should learn to work well together based on past mission performance. Kaldur, I want you with Wally. Connor, team up with M'gann. Robin, you're paired with Artemis. You'll have free run of the whole mountain, _except_ private rooms, bathrooms, and the kitchen area. We want this place still liveable when we're done. Are we all clear on the rules?"

Across the room, Robin wordlessly raised his hand.

"Robin. You have a question," Black Canary said.

"If we don't agree with your partner choice, could we switch partners? Or work alone?"

Every eye in the room turned to him in shock, no one more shocked than Artemis herself. Black Canary thought for a moment, confused. "Robin…the point of this exercise, ultimately, is team building. It defeats the purpose to work alone. And I've chosen your partner specifically based on compatibility. You have worked well with Artemis in the past, and I see no reason why you can't do so now." Batman had warned her that Robin might be in a foul mood right now, which she'd found infinitely odd in the first place, but she certainly hadn't expected him to effectively reject a teammate. She'd expected him to be particularly cutthroat in fighting alongside his teammate or something of that nature. She hadn't known exactly what to expect from what the Batman considered a mood worth calling foul. Now she looked on in complete bafflement as Robin steeled himself, turned, and marched back toward the zeta tube. "Robin, you haven't been dismissed. If you'd like to privately discuss something with me, you may, but we really need to get started."

Artemis herself finally found her words. She was actually hurt and confused by this, but what came out of her mouth was, as usual, needling. "Sorry, Boy Wonder, I had no idea I was that disappointing. Think you can't win with me around?"

Robin stilled. "I just don't think I'd work well with you," he admitted quietly.

Black Canary stepped forward in concern. "Robin, that's not your call. Stand down and prepare for training. Whatever's bothering you can wait."

Robin looked at her in surprise, mouthing the words "stand down" to himself. "I'm not attacking her. I just object to the partnership thing. I…realize that that's not the training you chose, but-"

"But, what?" Artemis yelled. "If there's something wrong with me, why don't you just say it? I can fight just as well as anyone here and I know for a fact that we fight just fine together, so if for some reason you don't trust me to be able to-"

"No!" Robin yelled, cutting across whatever she'd been about to say. "I don't trust you, frankly, and I would work far better on my own! You," he stabbed a finger in her direction, "are questionably motivated, and I sometimes wonder why you even chose to be a hero. It's not the kind of person you are. I know you. I know who you are, and I know what kind of person you are." He could see the shock growing in her face, and even though he hadn't been thinking of her family secret when he'd said those things his mind turned his words that way before he could even shut his mouth. "You think no one here knows who you are, but I do. Hello, protégé of the world's greatest detective! I'm not stupid, Artemis! And I see no reason to trust you!"

"That's enough, Robin!" Black Canary finally yelled, interrupting him before this could get worse. Everyone in the room looked alternately at him and Artemis, unsure. Black Canary sighed and fixed Robin with a hard and very disappointed stare. "That is enough. Robin and Artemis are both dismissed from this exercise. I'd like to ask you both to find some place to talk, but," she trailed off as Robin immediately turned and took the zeta tube back out to Gotham. Artemis stood another moment in pale shock before taking the same way out and home. She didn't expect she'd ever be coming back.

For the second time in as many days, Bruce Wayne returned to his home to find his ward and partner engaged in the activity of sitting and looking very confused and frustrated and, perhaps, this time more than a little hurt, but this time he didn't have the emotional room to wonder why. He was furious. He leapt from the Batmobile and stalked straight to where Robin was waiting, still in full gear as he'd been told he was still slated for patrol. Robin didn't need to look up from boring a hole in his left shoe to know he was in trouble. Batman had heard.

"I received a message from Black Canary. There was no explanation included. I expect she couldn't find the words. Instead, I got a video from the mountain's surveillance footage. You," he stopped to take a breath, but instead of becoming calmer he grew louder, "you not only disobeyed your trainer and a member of the League but you threatened a teammate." Robin looked up in shock at it being phrased that way, which was a mistake as he locked eyes with the cold whiteness of an infuriated Batman's hidden eyes and lost whatever he'd been about to say. "You threatened a teammate with knowledge of her secret identity! Robin, that is not only….appalling! It's irresponsible! It's…it's cruel!" He sliced the air with a hand, throwing back his cape as he did so. "It is a clear abuse of the privileges that come with being what. you. are. You have completely disregarded the purpose of having a secret identity – Dick, you of all people know how important that secret is!" Robin shrank back at that, feeling unable to breathe. "And you aren't even meant to know that information! You know it because of what I have taught you. But I never taught you to use your skills to terrorize others. You took her greatest fear and flaunted your knowledge of it. And the worst is that you did it because you had a bad day!" It was a wonder spit didn't fly as he lashed his protégé with his words. "You have been suspended from school for three days starting tomorrow. You will begin in the morning with training in the gym. All. day. long. You will not stop without permission. You will not be allowed to do make-up homework for school. When you return to school in three days, you will return with nothing done. When your teachers ask why, you will say that you were too busy. When they inevitably are frustrated with that incredibly stupid and unbelievable answer, you will stand by it. And if they should decide to give you more work, detention, it doesn't matter – you'll grin and bear it. You will not be allowed on patrol. You will not be allowed in the mountain. You will not be allowed to contact any of your teammates. You will not be allowed to step foot in the Batcave. You will not be allowed to do any of these things until I decide you can, if I decide you can. Your place as Robin and all privileges are completely revoked until I say otherwise. I will have no partner at all before I ever have a partner who abuses his privilege in order to torment someone." Finally stopping for breath, the deep one he took did not feel deep enough. "Go to your room, and do not come out until morning. I have to apologize to Green Arrow for this." He wheeled, cape whipping in his wake, and marched to the computer to do exactly that. Robin ran to his room. Not quietly, not elegantly, but certainly quickly.

Throwing himself into his room and slamming the door, Robin paused for breath barely a foot inside the bedroom. He had no idea how much time passed before there was a knock at his door. With a start, he realized he'd run into the house without ever changing out of his suit. He tore it off and threw it under the bed, grabbing a pair of sweatpants and throwing them on. Turning nervously, he was only able to bring himself to open the door because in the back of his stunned mind he knew it had been Alfred who had spoken when he'd knocked. Alfred stood in the doorway almost warily holding a tray. He didn't know what had happened that had both masters in the house slamming their doors, but he did know neither had eaten dinner yet and he had a feeling he ought to bring food to Master Dick first if the boy was to be allowed food at all. Alfred also had a feeling, looking the boy over and noting the state of his pale, bruised torso, that he was going to have to speak first.

"Master Dick, I've brought dinner, although I would of course prefer you ate at the table…" he trailed off meaningfully.

Dick made no move to take the tray and backed a step away from the door. Alfred sighed.

"Very well, I suppose if you must eat in your room then you must. I'll leave this here," he said, stepping into the room and crossing it place the tray on Dick's dresser, "and I'll be back to pick it up later." He didn't bother asking the boy if he'd need anything else as he turned and left the room, closing the door gently behind him. He'd be back after he'd taken Master Bruce his dinner. And gotten to the bottom of this worrying behavior. Furthermore, he contemplated as he retrieved a second dinner tray how best to ask Master Bruce how the halting of a few petty crimes and one brief confrontation with three school boys had resulted in not only a half dozen small, fading bruises already days old and a number of bright pink spots likely to blossom into bruises in the next few days, but also one glaring splash of color, deep purple, reaching around the boy's wrist and another half dozen such bruises blotting his belly. He was no detective, but injuries tell stories.

Taking the tray up to Bruce's room, he noted the open door and next the empty room. He tried his office. Still empty. Then he tried the gym. Used towels left for him to pick up later said the room had been briefly occupied, but it clearly wasn't now. With a sigh, - Master Bruce's dinner would be cold by the time he found him – he marched quickly back up the stairs and started again, this time finding the man in his office sitting with his chair turned away from the door.

"There you are. I've been all over the house looking for you, Master Bruce. I do hope that your dinner hasn't grown to cold." Setting it down on the desk and noting that he still hadn't turned in his chair, he walked around the desk and chair to stand in front of him. "Master Bruce, perhaps you could explain why both occupants of this house are refusing to take dinner at the table," he cleared his throat. "You know it's really not healthy to take meals just anywhere, sir, and certainly not in your work or sleeping area."

"Sorry, Alfred. We'll eat at the table tomorrow, I promise," Bruce said.

The butler stood stoically as he waited for more to be offered and resisted a sigh when it became clear he'd have no such luck. "I have my suspicions that Master Dick has no intention of eating at all this evening. I suppose I'm to assume you have none either?"

"Alfred," Bruce said mouth firming in barely repressed agitation, "now is really not the time."

Alfred, if possible, seemed to straighten a little more. "For what, sir? Dinner? I assure you it is time for dinner. I'm also quite certain now ought to be a good time for me to point out that doors are meant to be closed quietly, hallways are not meant to be stormed down, occupants of a home are not meant to seem alternately as lords on a war trail or prisoners in the tower of London depending on the soul in question, and a boy in my charge is certainly not meant to be covered in bruises for which, as far as I know, there is no explanation. Master Bruce, I assure you, this," he punctuated the word with as much calm as possible, "is precisely the time. Do please explain what on earth has happened in this house."

If nothing else, Alfred's, for lack of a better word, rant had confused and startled Bruce enough to calm him some. He looked at his butler with a pensive frown. "Basically, Dick started the day by throwing a sandwich at a kid and ended it by," he worked his mouth as though having difficulty saying it, "by threatening someone, Alfred." The man seemed to deflate having said it. "He threatened someone. Not, not with bodily harm or anything, but…almost with something worse. He knew something personal. About someone. A girl, one of his teammates who has already been struggling to fit in with the team, and he threatens her with her background, her family history, which is…very sensitive information. I," he cut himself short of launching into what he thought of that, shaking his head in exhaustion.

Alfred's eyebrows knit in concern. "That…if I may say so, does not sound like our Dick. And I feel obliged to ask, why?"

"That's just it, Alfred," Bruce said, frowning. "There's no reason why except that Dick had somehow managed to have a bad day at school today. This girl has been on the team for nearly a year now, and the two get along fine. In fact, from the way he's acted and talked up until now I would have said he probably trusts her more than anyone else on the team trusts her and has at least some measure of respect for her. He's known her family background for a while now, even though it's supposed to be a secret, and never once has he given any indication that it bothers him. Actually now that I think about it, he even defended her background once! He just lashed out at the girl for no good reason, and, no, it doesn't sound like Dick, but…I mean, I never would have believed he'd do this. I'm just…flabbergasted, Alfred. Completely lost here." He rubbed a hand over his face, not looking at Alfred as the butler processed this.

"Sir," Alfred finally said, "if I may, there may be no good reason for what Master Dick has done, but that doesn't mean there isn't a reason. And I for one would pay money to know what it is. Have you talked to him? And I don't mean have you scolded him and sent him to his room." Bruce blinked at him and grimaced. "I thought not."

"I'm really not in the mood to have a conversation with him right now. There is no excuse for this, and he needs to know that," Bruce said sternly.

Alfred sighed. "Very well. Perhaps in your mood it would be less than productive to press the issue. However, I absolutely insist that you talk to him in the morning."

"Yes, yes, fine. I understand," Bruce cut in. "You're right. Now. What on earth were you going on about him having bruises? You know he does get those. We both do. It…kind of comes with the territory."

"Yes, I realize that, sir," Alfred nodded agitatedly, "but the bruises I am referring to make no sense to me. Of course, there may be an explanation. Well, in fact there must be one, but I mean a logical explanation to do with your nightly activities-"

"Alfred. What bruises?" Bruce cut in, frowning as his butler practically rambled in a way most unlike him.

"Sorry, sir. There are old bruises which, I suppose, are from his nightly activities and new bruises which, I again suppose, must be from today's brief brawl. However, I'm at a loss to explain a certain number of very dark bruises which don't seem likely to be the result of either small crime fighting or a school-boy squabble from what is in fact mere hours ago. Master Dick happened to be without his shirt when I delivered his dinner, and I noticed. Can you explain them, sir?"

Bruce shook his head, frowning. "The crimes we've stopped in the last few days have been small, too small for Robin to leave with anything worse than the little bruises you're not going to avoid no matter what. For the most part, bruised knuckles, some bruises on his arms, maybe a couple bruises on his torso from lucky, flailing hits. But that's stretching it even. Nothing more."

"No heavy bruising from perhaps a day or two ago? A particularly nasty one as though someone had gripped him harshly by the wrist?" Alfred pressed.

"No," Bruce said, leaning forward in his chair. "Nothing like that. He has bruises like that?"

"Yes, sir." The two sat in stunned silence for a moment before Alfred finally said what they were both thinking. "Perhaps it's possible that today was more than just a food-fight and a childish squabble?"

"It seems likely", Bruce replied, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. His eyes widen minutely as a thought hits him. "And it occurs to me that the girl on his team attends school with Dick."

"Ah, is that so?" Alfred asked.

Bruce nodded. "She's on the Wayne scholarship. A different grade than Dick, but the same school."

"Well," Alfred said, "the plot thickens." Picking up the tray of cold and completely untouched food, Alfred faced Bruce one more time, lips thinning into a stern line. "And on that note, I will insist once more that you talk to Master Dick in the morning at the latest. Perhaps he needs time to think, but boys of that age and in that temper can arrive at some very dark places when left alone to think too long, sir." He gave Bruce one last meaningful look before leaving him holding his head in his hands, elbows resting on his desk, deep in thought. 

When Bruce woke in the morning, he did not feel rested. Although he wasn't as angry as before, this entire issue was beyond troubling, and he didn't feel he'd get a straight thought in until he filled in the gaps in the story. He glanced at his alarm clock. It was five in the morning, so it hadn't been the alarm that woke him up. Groaning groggily, he sat up in bed. Alfred wouldn't have breakfast ready for a while, so he wouldn't be able to ask him what sort of mood Dick was in when he was taken breakfast. He got up and got changed into some sweats, pocketing his cell. In an hour or so he'd call in that he wouldn't be at work today. Meanwhile, he'd go get some exercise in and wait for Dick to arrive at the gym. At least that way he'd be able to get this all straight in his head as soon as possible without any distractions. Making his way downstairs, he paused with his hand on the knob of the gym door – the quiet sounds of lightly pounded mats and creaking, jangling equipment passed through the thin door. Dick was already up. Bruce took a deep breath both to check any residual frustration and to quiet the feelings Dick's early start dredged up. He needed to be calm and collected for this conversation, because there was no telling if Dick would be. He gave the doorknob a purposefully loud turn as he entered. Despite the warning, Dick was still swinging, flipping, and leaping from one piece of equipment to the next when Bruce walked in. He was still in the air when Bruce walked over to a mat a safe distance away and sat on it. He was still in the air five minutes later. And ten minutes later. And fifteen. Bruce didn't know where to start. With Artemis? It was very likely what happened at school had something to do with her, which almost made Bruce feel better. Alfred was right: surely, even if there wasn't a good reason there was at least a reason. Or should he start with the bruises? That puzzled him even more. Dick was more than capable of handling himself in a physical confrontation, but Bruce understood why he would avoid it. What puzzled him was why Dick had seemingly chosen not to handle it at all. He knew that children had always teased him. Once upon a time, Dick had been willing to discuss that. Was it Bruce's mistake to believe that talking was enough? That there wouldn't come a day when Dick couldn't handle himself…in his civilian life? He'd missed something. Something big. Somehow he had missed that Dick was still an adolescent and could have problems thrown his way while he was out of the cape that he not only might not know how to handle but might feel overwhelmed by. Bruce's lips quirked in an unbidden and unwelcome smile: overwhelmed. Yes, somehow he'd managed to miss that his ward was anything but whelmed. He tucked away the smile that Dick's word play brought and pulled out his phone. Checking the time, he blinked in surprise. He needed to say something now or he never would.

"Dick, stop," he said quietly.

Dick was in the middle of back-flipping off a mat and onto the balance beam so he stopped there, sticking his landing on the beam in a handstand. He waited, staring forward. He wanted to look down at his hands and hope Bruce would just walk away, but his training kept him looking forward. Training his acrobatics for Robin's purposes had taught him some important things, and one of those was that when you chose what to spot while you were flipping it'd better be where your opponent was. Forward. Not down. He took a deep breath to keep his balance as he remembered that he wasn't Robin in any sense right now. He wasn't, and it didn't matter where he looked. So he looked down.

Bruce watched, not missing Dick's final surrender to shame. "We need to talk. Come sit. You can stretch to stay warm." Bruce inwardly cringed as Dick slipped off the beam and walked over, still staring at the ground. That hadn't been what he'd meant to say. It suggested he intended to keep making Dick train all day, which he did, but he hadn't meant to suggest anything but open ears. "I…want to have the talk we were supposed to have last night before…everything happened. I need to know what's going on at school, Dick, and I want to hear it from you so that I have your side of things. You said my account of things was wrong so," he spread his hands, "the floor's yours." That was a little better, but he was pushing the extent of his diplomacy. He hoped it was enough to get Dick talking or this would go south fast.

Dick sat and opened his mouth to speak, Bruce leaning toward him a little hoping beyond hope that it would really be that easy to get him to talk. "I'm supposed to be training. All day. It's…day," he mumbled.

Bruce sighed, sitting back. "Technically, it's not quite 5:30 in the morning, and it's just shy of pitch black outside. It's not day," he frowned – again, this was not what he needed to be saying. "And technically, I said you would train all day unless I told you otherwise. So, I'm telling you otherwise. We need to talk."

Dick hesitated a moment, then started stretching. Spreading his legs wide, he reached forward, bending low. His face was practically in the mat when he finally spoke. "You already know what happened at school."

"No, I don't think I do. You told me as much on our drive home. I see a food-fight and a fist-fight. You say that's not what happened. On top of that, some things don't add up. For example, why did you tell me you might have thrown up on yourself?" he asked first, forcing himself not to continue to other questions. Artemis could wait. He needed to ply at this carefully.

Dick bobbed up and down as he stretched. "I…threw up. Obviously. In the bathroom during lunch. It's no big deal; it's not like I threw up the sandwich on the guy. I just threw the sandwich on the guy."

"I…know that," Bruce said carefully, avoiding pointing out the obvious deflection. "We'll get to why you threw the sandwich on the guy. For now, I'd like to know why you… 'threw up in a bathroom during lunch.'" If he hadn't known better, he could've sworn Dick blushed.

"I said it's no big deal," he said quietly.

"Ok," Bruce said, rubbing a hand over his face, "this is getting us nowhere. Please, I just want to figure out what happened. Why were you sick? Just answer."

"Why does it matter?" Dick said, sitting up abruptly. "I've already been suspended from civ life _and_ the night life, so it's already been handled. Punishment is in progress. What's done is done. I won't do it again. It doesn't matter."

"Dick, you know that's not true," Bruce said. "This isn't going to just go away like that. As your guardian and your mentor, I need to know what's wrong. With both your lives. There's a very concerned butler on the prowl in this house right now, and I may not survive our next confrontation. And on top of that," he paused in hesitation, "on top of that there's a young lady for whom this definitely isn't going to just go away just like that. This situation needs fixing. On more levels than I can count, so, look, I'm sorry, but you're going to have to help me out here. The world's greatest detective can only do so much." Bruce reached out and placed a firm hand on the boy's shoulder. "Talk to me."

Dick took a shuddering breath, and practically whispered. "It…it was stupid. Really. Some brats snuck some sort of crazy concoction of spices into my lunch," he accentuated with a few flailing hand gestures, "and I just jumped to nuts conclusions, ok?"

Bruce still didn't see how that fit together, so he just waited.

"Look, it totally tasted like fear gas when the taste hit my nose! I mean the smell. You know what I mean! I was going to try to wash out my mouth in the bathroom, but I couldn't remember if I swallowed so," he cut off grimacing and, yes, blushing. He was indeed blushing.

"So. You induced vomiting," Bruce finished for him. Dick just nodded, shrinking in on himself. Bruce quirked a smile. "You have no idea how often stupid stuff like that happens. Actually, I'm surprised this is the first time for you. I'll have you know I didn't eat mustard for years after my first confrontation with Joker, because, lo and behold, it tasted like his foul breath. Or was that smelled. You know what I mean. Poor Alfred has had to deal with all kinds of crazy food issues; he has to have some kind of little black book somewhere full of all of them, because I don't see how he could remember them all." Dick just stared, stunned. "Ok, so, you threw up because you thought you'd been hit with an ingestible version of fear gas. But that creates more questions. Why didn't you contact me? Is there some reason you thought these kids would legitimately have that kind of thing? Somehow this all works into a food fight, and I'm not sure how."

"I didn't think they would have had that," Dick said, feeling the shame burn into his face all over again. "I didn't know they'd put it in. They snuck it in while I wasn't looking. Two man operation. One distracted me while the other messed with my lunch." Dick cringed at how that nonsense scenario came out like a report. Bruce just nodded.

"Ok. So the boys snuck it in, and you had no idea how it had gotten into your food. And you didn't contact me about potential fear toxin poisoning, because…" Bruce trailed off.

Now Dick paused. "Because, someone else was at the bathroom door, and I thought they might come in and see my belt."

"Ok, so you were concerned about spilling your identity," Bruce said, noting Dick's momentary pause and filing it away to return to later. "Now. I want to know what all this has to do with some inexplicable bruising. Show me your wrists."

Dick's eyes widened. Bruce hadn't seen the bruise two days ago and he hadn't had a chance since. Gritting his teeth, he removed the sweat bands he'd been wearing as a cover up. Bruce frowned, immediately seeing what Alfred was so upset about. He took Dick's left hand and looked closely at the dark bruise. He definitely hadn't gotten this in training or on patrol, and the pronounced outline of fingers set his teeth on edge. Unfortunately, a late night of thinking hadn't helped him figure out how to broach this sensitive issue, but as it turns out he needn't have bothered trying. Words came out of his mouth before he had time to wonder if they were good ones.

"I can't believe this," Bruce said.

Dick frowned in confusion. "Well, it's…not like I could just hit them back."

What?" Bruce asked, startled out of his own thoughts. "No, of course not. Why didn't you tell me you were getting beat up at school?"

"Huh?" Dick said, more and more confused. "I, uh…I'm not beat up, you know; it's just a few bruises-"

"Well, it seems pretty clear to me that somebody at school is beating you up," Bruce interrupted, his volume rising. "I mean, that's what this is, isn't it? It's…it's bullying." The word sounded strange coming out of his mouth in reference to Dick. "This is bullying. Someone's bullying you."

"Well…yeah, but they're not beating me up," Dick said.

"Dick, I can see the bruises. You can't tell me that what I'm seeing is not what's happening!" Bruce said, shaking his head in frustration, voice rising further.

"Whoa, Bruce, ok, chill! Look, it's no big deal!" He held up his right hand to stop Bruce from interrupting. "No, it's not, ok? I'm not beat up. Bullied, well, sure, but beat up is another thing, ok? We both know beat up is when I come home after Joker's thrown a Cinco de Mayo party with me as the piñata. I'm fine! It's just a few bruises, and it's not like I'm not smart enough to at least avoid letting them land any actually damaging blows. Ok, I'm not trying to hide things from you, honest! It's just…not that big a deal."

Bruce stopped to allow his brain the time to perform some more mental gymnastics. In his concern and surprise at the idea of Dick being bullied, he _had_ forgotten that Dick was Robin and had taken far worse than a few amateur punches in his time. As he looked the boy over now, he saw he had made completely the wrong assumption: the bruises didn't bother Dick at all. He was completely calm about this, except maybe slightly concerned for his guardian who to his reckoning was taking this far more badly than necessary. His eyebrows knit in confusion.

"So, you're ok about this," Bruce asked hesitantly.

"Sure, I'm ok. Whelmed. No problem, promise," Dick said, poking the bruise for good measure and immediately regretting it as Bruce's expression darkened again.

"I'm still not letting this rest," Bruce said, letting go of Dick's hand, "but I'll take your word for it. You can take the beating. I know you can." He noted how Dick looked relieved at that. "But I still have my doubts. If none of this is a problem for you, why did you suddenly decide retaliating was a good idea?"

Dick just shrugged, feeling a little better about the conversation after Bruce's overreaction. "Just had a bad day. And the whole mistaking it for poisoning thing. It was…just a bad day. I couldn't punch the guy, so I, um, you know. Threw a sandwich at him," he said, grinning a little sheepishly.

Bruce smiled. "Again, I'm not clear on why that seemed like a good alternative."

"Again, it didn't. I'd just done it before I really thought about it," Dick said.

"Ok," Bruce said, nodding. "What I have so far, then, is that you've been bullied for some time, but it's actually fine. You reacted because you'd had a bad day and a fear toxin false alarm had your emotions running high." Dick nodded. "Alright, now just to throw a wrench in things, who was at the bathroom door?"

Dick froze. And just like that he was once again very uncomfortable with this conversation. "I…a concerned student. She saw me run from the cafeteria and followed me to make sure I was ok." Dick mentally kicked himself. There was nothing about that response that wasn't transparent.

"Artemis," Bruce said. "Artemis was at the door. And at this point…do I really have to ask or can you just fill me in on what I need to know?"

"Girl trouble," Dick sighed. "I was just trying to get acquainted with her. In civvies, I mean. The bullying is fine, I mean it, but it is annoying and," he fiddled with his sweatbands, "it's definitely not any fun having to sit there and let someone hit you. I can take it, but it's not like it's fun. I had it figured that if I managed to get on speaking terms with Artemis, well, maybe she'd stick up for me. Galling, let me tell you," he said, looking at the ceiling, "but it's in her job description, right? And she'd be safe no matter what happened. She's there on your buck and friends with me. Or that was the plan. Turns out Artemis," he couldn't quite help the way his voice growled a little when he said her name, "has it out for rich brats. She wouldn't even speak to me once she knew who I was, and when those idiots got it into their heads to mess with me at lunch she just watched. She thought it was funny! And then she told me that she'd even heard them talking about doing it that morning and hadn't done a thing because," he blinked, looking back down at his hands. "It doesn't matter. I…I know I shouldn't have said what I said. I-I regretted it right as I was saying it, but…I kinda meant it. How am I supposed to trust someone like that? Work with her as a team? If she knew who Robin was, maybe she'd feel the same way. A-and, I mean, how am I supposed to not wonder what she's going to let slide on a mission just because she thinks it's funny or harmless? I thought I knew her, and it was enough to trust her. But, I realize now that part of trust has to do with whether or not she knows me." His voice hardened, his hands crushing the sweatbands they were holding. "And she doesn't. She doesn't know me at all."

Bruce was quiet. If he was honest with himself, he was conflicted. On the one hand, Dick sounded completely ludicrous. He was saying he didn't trust a teammate as Robin, because that teammate had made an assumption about him as Dick. The two had no bearing on each other in a practical sense, and on that end his frustration and distrust seemed totally baseless. But on the other hand, he gave validity to Artemis' fears that if her teammates knew who her family was they wouldn't accept her. This was no different. Dick suddenly had a reason to believe that a teammate hated him, the real him, and it was perfectly normal that he'd react defensively. He almost smiled. Finally, this was beginning to look normal. Still, some things needed setting to rights all the same.

"Dick, you're confusing trust with friendship. I'll grant you that having a friendship with Artemis at this point would be hard. There's a whole side to you that she doesn't know, an important side that she's just let down in a major way, and being friends after that depends entirely on your ability to move on. I get that, and no one's asking you to not be disappointed in a friendship you thought you had. But trust is different. Trust in a teammate is about knowing she'll do the right thing in the right situation, and," he put up a hand to stall Dick's protest, "you and I both know that if Robin were in trouble, real danger, Artemis would act." Dick just scowled, and this time Bruce couldn't help his smile. "You know I'm right."

Dick scowled a moment longer before nodding. "Fine. But I still don't know what to do about it."

Bruce nodded. "And I'm still not the best person to ask advice from about girl trouble. But," he said, looking critically at the boy, "you should start with an apology. How you choose to phrase that apology will be up to you, but I want it to be sincere so, whatever you have to say that you'll actually mean it, say it. Understood?" He waited until Dick nodded sullenly and went back to the balance beam, then pulled out his phone, texting his secretary to let her know he wouldn't be coming in today. He was going to be a little too busy hunting down a huntress. 

In the end, Batman simply waited until the school day had ended then went to the mountain and called Artemis in, also sending her summons to Green Arrow in case Artemis needed any extra motivation to come. He stood in the entry room and waited, sorting through work emails on his com in the meanwhile. Superboy and Miss Martian were both in the mountain, of course, but they avoided him. Robin wasn't with him, and that didn't mean good things. Artemis arrived nearly an hour later, clearly both uncomfortable being back in the mountain and surprised that Batman was standing at the zeta tube waiting for her. Batman turned wordlessly and made his way toward the same room Black Canary tended to use for her individual talks with team members. Artemis followed silently. Upon entering, Batman immediately took a seat. Artemis had to shake herself mentally before she could take hers. How Batman managed to be more intimidating sitting than standing she'd pay to know, but he made that chair look like a judge's seat. Batman spoke first.

"What Robin did was inexcusable. He's being punished for it. I am personally making certain that he realizes exactly how out of line he was to threaten you with sensitive and personal information. It won't happen again." Batman said that last as though it were a proclamation. In fact, part of him was still unsure as to how Dick would handle his apology, but he felt he could at least promise her this much. Robin would need something akin to a death wish before he'd try this again.

"Um, thanks," Artemis managed to get out, licking her lips nervously.

"Additionally, I feel fair is only fair," Batman said, choosing his words carefully. This was something most of him was still unsure about doing, but he wasn't backing out now. Eventually, some things had to be said, and some wounds would never heal if you didn't give them some air. "So I'm going to return the favor: a secret for a secret. How you use this, what it changes for you and what it doesn't, what actions you take are up to you. Although," he fixed her with one of his best glares, "I don't think I need to tell you that no sabotage will be tolerated. I'm giving you this information to even the playing field and set the record straight, but Robin doesn't know I'm giving it to you. And if you use it to undermine him or endanger him in any way, you will be hearing straight from me." He paused as Artemis swallowed hard, confused and clearly worried. Good. He stood up and walked to the door, pausing just long enough to do what ultimately he had come to do. "Robin's civilian name is Richard Grayson. Make of that what you will." And he left.

Artemis sat for some time in that room in that chair making quite a lot of it. At first, she was merely surprised. Then she started to put the pieces together. Oh. Just sitting there silently, she pieced together everything she knew about both Robin and Grayson. Of course, it didn't take her long to realize that Bruce Wayne must be Batman, but she pushed that to the back of her mind. She was sure that was the reason Robin had been the only team member not allowed to give away his civ ID, and after that conversation with Batman her instinct was that it was safer to just pretend she didn't know the Bat's identity. She was left with just Robin and Grayson, and it was more than enough to puzzle over. She didn't know much about Richard Grayson. She knew he was intelligent, generally well-liked, apparently not well-liked in some circles, rich obviously, and had the most ridiculous hairstyle sense. If this weren't so serious, her first use of this new knowledge would definitely be to let Robin know exactly how dumb and sleazy he looked with his hair slicked back. Ugh. But this was serious. And since she definitely knew more about Robin than she knew about Dick, she quickly gave up trying to imagine Robin as a rich kid and tried to imagine Dick as sidekick to one of the baddest members of the League, a teammate, a totally traught bag of tricks that had saved everyone's collective butts on more than one occasion. Everything made sense now. Why he'd felt so ok with approaching her before fitness evals, why he'd been so hurt that she'd done nothing about those bullies messing with his lunch. Well, if she was honest with herself, that last had made sense from the beginning, but this just made it worse. Artemis sighed and mentally berated herself for feeling relieved that his distrust hadn't stemmed, at least initially, from her family tree but from her failure to do a hero's basic duty and just do the right thing. This wasn't the time to be relieved. Dick was clearly far more than she'd given him credit for, and right now both Dick and Robin – she'd have to get used to them being the same person slowly – were pissed with her. Not a good place to be. She stood up and made her way back toward the zeta tube, relieved every step of the way that Batman didn't appear. She was back in civvies and halfway home when the most important fact of all dawned on her like a palm to the forehead: Dick, and that meant Robin… _the_ Robin, was being bullied at school.

Three days later, Robin was making his way, miraculously without Batman as escort, to the mountain. He still wasn't sure why Batman had allowed him back into his suit so soon. Technically, today was the last day of his suspension from school, but he'd expected to be kept from being Robin for far longer than this, that is after he had gotten past the initial fear that he'd never get to be Robin again. Although he was relieved, his thank you to Bruce had been less sincere than he'd meant it to be. Being allowed back into the suit today also meant he was allowed to attend today's rescheduled training session with the team. Which meant two things: 1) he'd be expected to apologize to Artemis and 2) he'd be expected to endure who knows what kind of training after three days straight of training at home. Yeah, Bruce had kept that promise. Dick wasn't sure how he was still moving, but he was beginning to hate back-flips and that was certainly indicative of something. He was looking forward to his first day back as Robin far less than he wanted to. Turning the corner to the alleyway where the hidden zeta tube in Gotham resided, he came to an abrupt halt. As luck would have it, Artemis was already there. Wait, no…not luck. She was leaning against the abandoned phone booth reading a book. She was waiting for him. Taking a deep breath, he approached at an even pace which he hoped wasn't too slow to pass as not apprehensive. Artemis, making him feel a little better, started when she saw him and quickly shoved her book behind a box in the alley. The two stared at each other. It was every bit as awkward as both were busily pretending it wasn't. Finally, one of them broke the silence.

"I'm sorry," Robin said, knowing that he really needed to be the one to speak first. "I shouldn't have said any of those things I did…I-I wasn't thinking. I just opened my mouth, and, I know it's no excuse. I'd just had a very not whelming day, definitely wasn't feeling the aster, and I took it out on you-"

"I know," Artemis interrupted.

Robin paused for a moment, puzzled, before plowing ahead again. "No, I mean, I know that's no reason to have threatened you with your secret like I did, and, hey, I'm not even supposed to know that about you, but-"

"No, Robin, I know, ok?" Artemis cut in again. "I know why your day had been, uh, less than 'asterous'. And like you told me, 'I know who you are.' Ok? I get it. This was my fault too. Sorry."

Robin's eyes narrowed as he finally got what she was getting at. "How…how did you figure it out?"

"I didn't," she admitted. "I was told. Three guesses who told. He's tall, dark, and everybody's worst nightmare. Look, I won't tell anybody, and I won't bother you about it. I'm just sorry for my part in all this," she said, hitching the strap on her quiver. "Can we get going now? This is weird."

Robin blinked, still processing how this apology had turned out. "Uh, sure, yeah. Um, ladies first."

"Uh-uh," Artemis said, smirking at memories. "Your town. You go. And Robin…I'm here if you need backup. Whenever, wherever. Got it?"

"Y-E-A-H," Robin said, his trademark grin stretching across his face, "I got it, Arty."


End file.
